
I know I normally put posts such as this on my other blog, but I am tired of compartmentalizing. I am a Christian. I may not fit your definition of Christian but for me to deny that it's what I am would be as ridiculous as denying that I am a woman. I am not the most beautiful, graceful, soft, feminine of women, yet there is no denying that I am a woman. I am not the most holy, sinless, pious of Christians, yet there is no denying (to myself) that I am a Christian. This blog is meant to be a reflection of my every day life, yet I find myself trying to leave out this huge part of myself as a spiritual being who seems to paradoxically see God in everything yet constantly search for God. I am no longer going to relegate any faith questions to my other blog. Don't worry, though, nothing much will change as you will note that Messy Musings doesn't update often. :)
Now, with that said I'll get on with the gist of the post. I have had an interesting week. It's been a bit quieter than usual and I've had a chance to do some thinking and some talking and some listening. I've realized that for most of my late teen/adult life, I have been like a child on a trip, "God, are we there yet? Are we there yet? How about now? Are we there yet?" I am always jumping ship before arrival.I did it with getting married, getting divorced, moving in with Tim, and just about everything in my life. I even had the audacity to blame God after my divorce because he didn't keep me from making mistakes. I mean..gee, I'd been so good before. Couldn't he have forced me to see how stupid I was being? Apparently not because I have been contemplating jumping ship again. This time, however, I had the wisdom that comes only with having screwed up royally enough to recognize that pre-tragedy inducing jump. I have felt like that child in the parking lot. You know the one. The mom has groceries in one hand, maybe a baby on the hip and she has taken this child's hand to keep him safe. All he knows is that he is too big to have to hold mom's hand and he wants to run. He is fighting and trying to wiggle free from mom's grasp, not knowing or seeing all that she knows or sees.
Suddenly, though, I stopped wiggling my hand to get free. I thought of my earlier mistakes and grieved them again. I thought of all the ways life may have been different if I hadn't made those mistakes. Then it hit me. One day this will be the past. This will be a good memory or a painful regret. I can't take more painful regret. I started reading things that strengthened my spirit and I realized that what I was missing would not have been restored by leaving anyway. So, I am full in. I resolve to give the most to this relationship that I can give.
I have read and read and read. I have found some beautifully written books and blogs that provide real nourishment for the soul. Over and over I am confronted with the message that I am to move on from my regret. The artist above has a similar drawing but with briars in the foreground. He calls it "Remember. But Go Forward." Yes. That's it.
I must remember my mistakes and the arrogance that lead to them. I must remember how I thought I was above making such mistakes. I must remember so that it is impossible for me, ever again, to be arrogant. I must remember. I have tried so hard to forget, but that was the wrong thing to do. I must remember. But go forward...at God's pace.
When I looked at this artist's drawings, I realized that I have been in God's hand all along. When I thought that he had abandoned me and I was so angry that he hadn't kept me..I was in his hand even then. I am so trying not to make this sound all teddybears and teacups. I don't know how to express this without sounding sentimental and naive. In fact, I have this wonderful uplifted feeling from reading the words of other writers, yet I who call myself a writer cannot express this feeling at all!
You're probably thinking, "Well, I wish you'd hurry up and finish not expressing yourself."
Well, you're probably right. Maybe I'll try again later. :)
With these little revelations always, always comes a sense of call. I don't understand it, EVER. It seems to be all or nothing. I feel called, but to what? I feel pulled to express something. I am not sure of what needs expressed nor how to express it. (sorry, I tried..but rambling on I go)
I have learned one thing. I won't jump ahead this time, trying out callings. "ohh is it this GOD? Do you want me to do this? How about this?" I will say, that is one good way to find out all the things you're NOT good at.
I need to finish Marjory Bankson's book "Call To The Soul." I meant to bring it out of the bedroom with me but forgot, so it will have to wait now because Tim is sleeping.
Rambling over.